I remember rainy days, that never seemed to end. In a way some never did and just continued raining on into the next day, or even the day after that. Light drizzle, or maybe just enough rain to make you soaking wet yet, simultaneously making you look ridiculous for caring an umbrella. They seem so far away and so long ago.More
As the minute hand on my watch slowly makes another round, more and more people enter through the sliding doors of the Medicare centre. Last time I was here they were still on strike, proof that one can cross the earth, but government bureaucracy will be the same all over.
I’m the fourteenth person to take a seat in the waiting area. Small chairs arranged like the interior of an airplane, in the colour green one normally associates with spinach-baby-vomit. I wouldn’t necessarily say unfitting.More
When was the last time I was on a Dutch train? It must be over a year ago by now. I’m seated on my suitcase next to the train doors, no sense in looking for a seat with this big green bastard. Besides, the airport isn’t far, so I might as well just enjoy the flower fields whizzing by from this spot. And as I start to wonder why it has been so long ago that I found myself on a train, I suddenly have the stark realisation I just put my fate, of arriving at the airport in time, in the incapable hands of the Dutch Railway services…
How often have I been complaining about not being able to do anything? I hope not too often, although we all know I probably did. Well, today was time for a little satisfaction. A very glorious victory in my everlasting battle with “lists”.More
The days slowly started to drift into a seemingly motionless blur of time. My aversion of lists was not quenched on account of nothing happening. Not a single box got ticked, and my hands were bound in terms of remedying that. On the morning of the 22nd March I woke as usual, by the rising sun burning through the mist, looking for my weary eyes. One missed call by an unknown number from Perth. Not inclined to start the day with more hassles, I decided to take a shower first.More
If you would walk down towards the treeline from my parent’s front door, you’d stumble upon a shed, obscured from sight by some bushes and trees. In that shed you would find an assortment of chainsaws, bushcutters, wood splitters, and other machinery. If you would look past the small go-kart like mower (with the chunky tires for tackling mud and what not) roughly in between the vintage and the new tractor, you might notice a gray tarp.More
Although I’ve been to France many times over the past 10 years, I’ve actually never been to Paris. Yet when the chance presented itself to remedy this, joining Rogier and Fabian to spend two nights there on their way back to Holland, I reclined the offer. To most traveller’s horror I assume.
The last couple of days, the hashtag I used as a title has been uttered more than once. It started as a little joke by Fabian to get some likes on his Instagram, and has since slowly taken over as a running joke during this trip.
By the time the shutter closed for the second time, a broad-shouldered officer from the Dutch military police stood squarely in front of my camera. “Good morning sir, what are you photographing?” He didn’t surprise me. I was actually a bit surprised I managed to take two shots before he got out of his vehicle.
My breath forms thin clouds in the cold air. The familiar sting of cold wind on the parts of my face not covered in hair. I’m SO happy with my beard right now. There is this near constant haze of mist clinging to the city, and it’s about -1 degrees outside today, thankfully it’s a little warmer inside.